


May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Diggle invites Felicity over on Christmas Eve, things she'd kept close to her heart come spilling out.  Hopes and dreams she doesn't think she will ever get with Oliver gone.  </p><p>When she heads back to the Foundry, she is going to find some peace, but instead finds the happiness she'd thought was lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Hey everyone! So I’m not sure where this plot bunny came from but it hit me hard and fast the other night. I’m not sure this is the best thing that I could have written for this - but it was something stuck in my head and I wanted to write it so I hope it came out half-way decent and that you enjoy it!
> 
> SPOILERS FOR 3x09!
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your support! As always, I would LOVE to know what you think! :D

When Digg invited her over for dinner on Christmas Eve, Felicity initially began to decline, unsure whether she was up for any sort of gathering, even with her best friends.

“I’m Jewish...” she’d begun, her normal protest coming to her lips, but Digg had only raised his eyebrows knowingly and shook his head, telling her it was a time for family to be together, and they were family.

“Please come,” he stated softly before he left the Foundry that evening, and she saw the weariness in his own eyes - the heartache that they were all still struggling to survive.

She’d grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, nodding her head. A sigh of relief left him and then he kissed her on the top of her head and left, telling her he’d see her the next day. 

She arrived thirty minutes early, a gift for Sara and bottle of wine for Digg and Lyla in hand, having already given her present to Roy the night before. 

Dinner passed with good conversation and smiles, even though a shared heaviness rested on all their hearts. They all knew someone was missing from the table, and it was an absence that weighed keenly on her until she finally had to excuse herself to the living room.

Her chest ached, a burning sensation settling deep within her as she tried to gather herself, pulling air into her lungs in sharp, deep breaths. Pressing one hand over her breastbone, she closed her eyes, desperately trying to get control of her emotions. Instead, images flashed before her eyes, moments shared between them - a touch to her shoulder, the brush of his fingers against hers, his breath upon her lips, his arms around her waist. 

Every time it happened, it left her breathless and off-balance, and the emotions she’d kept buried since they’d gotten word that he was gone flared to life. 

She knew Digg had followed her; she could feel his presence behind her, but stayed silent for a few moments as she gazed out the window. The room was dark except for the glow of the Christmas tree lights. They reflected in the window - a myriad of white and blue and pink and green - vibrant colors that now felt out of place to her.

Words and thoughts crawled up her throat until she could no longer keep them inside.

"I keep thinking about it..." she murmured, knowing he was standing behind her, watching and waiting. She held one hand around her waist, the other playing the with small necklace at her throat - a gift he’d left for her - sliding it back and forth as her she stared out at the city lit up below. 

“I keep thinking about that night...when he left…” her voice cracked, but she took a deep breath and continued, needing to tell someone, truths clawing at her heart to be heard instead of echoing inside her mind alone. She needed to share them with someone, speak them aloud so they would be real and concrete and not just dreams she kept in her heart. He deserved that. Oliver deserved more than ‘what ifs’ in his memory.

“He told me he loved me,” she whispered, her mind replaying his voice saying the words, the feel of his lips against her forehead.

Her eyes slipped shut and she breathed in, recreating the moment in her head, as she’d done every night since he’d been gone.

“I didn’t say it back…” her voice trembled and then broke, tears pressing harshly at the back of her eyelids. “I didn’t say it and now he’s...he left without knowing....”

A sob escaped her lips and she crumpled forward and she felt a warm, comforting hand on her back and then her shoulder.

“He _knew_ ,” John’s steady voice declared, suddenly in front of her, strong hands grasping her arms as she tried to regain control of her breathing.

With watery eyes, she looked up at her friend, searching for absolution that he would tell her she didn’t need.

The kindness in his gaze only spurred her anger forwards, self-loathing rocketing through her. She didn’t deserve his sympathy or comfort.

Wrenching herself away from his touch, she shook her head.

“I knew he was going to fight one of the most deadly people on earth,” she cried, now using her loud voice, “And I couldn’t tell him...I _couldn’t_ …”

Her chest rose and fell as the truth slammed into her; knowing that once she said it out loud, it gave her weakness credence.

“I was scared…” she breathed, staring up into John’s eyes, “I thought if I didn’t say it...he’d come back. Because everyone, except my mother - who is an entirely different story - that I’ve told I loved has left me…” A soft cry escaped her lips but she kept going, needing to tell someone; needing to put the words out in the open so at least _someone_ knew.

“But he’s gone anyway, and I never told him...I never told him I loved him,” she broke, tears streaming down her cheeks as John pulled her to him, wrapping her in strong arms.

She fell against him, sobs wracking her body as he rubbed soothing patterns over her back and leaned his head against hers.

It wasn’t until most of her tears had fallen that he leaned her back, planting his hands on her shoulders and bending down so he could look her in the eyes.

“Listen to me, Felicity,” he began, soft, steady voice filling the air around them. “The Oliver Queen I first met didn’t know what love was - not real love. He knew lust and guilt and obligation, but the love that is built out of trust and friendship and from the heart - he didn’t know that love. Until he met you…”

Her eyes widened, and she tried to speak but he shook his head. “No, listen to me. I watched Oliver Queen fall in love with you every day for two years. I watched him fight with what he was feeling and deny it, until one day he couldn’t anymore. Because love like that - it can’t be denied. And, he knew...he knew you felt the same way.”

“How?” she asked, softly, almost like a little child in need of reassurance.

John smiled, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek. “Because you were there every single day. You showed up and worked with him and took care of him. You challenged him, fought beside him, didn’t run when you saw his scars and heard everything he’d been through...you stayed and you helped him and you fought for him. Oliver Queen hasn’t had many people fight for him…”

“You loved him every single day, and he knew that, trust me.”

Felicity took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air, nodding softly. “I still want to tell him. I know we’ve been told he’s...he’s dead...but I keep expecting him to walk down the steps into the Foundry...he doesn’t feel gone, John.”

“I know,” he breathed, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. “Hold on to that.”

“I miss him…” she murmured, “I miss him so much.”

John didn’t reply, he just held her tighter.

***

“Come by tomorrow at noon,” John told her as she headed for the door. 

She needed some time to herself; needed time to grieve and hope. She needed to get closer to him, and there was only one place she could do that.

Digg didn’t stop her when she announced she needed to go, but she knew he knew where she was going and why.

“I will,” she promised, bussing a kiss over his cheek and bidding Lyla, Sara, and Roy goodbye.

She took her time driving to the Foundry, passing by the brightly lit up houses and streets, Christmas lights twinkling in the night.

She saw families greeting each other through large picture windows, kids running around the house, and people gathered at dinner tables. 

With each sight, her heart grew heavier, twisting more painfully inside her chest.

She didn’t realize she’d started crying again until she reached Verdant, finding the lights on and people coming and going from the Christmas Eve party she knew Thea was throwing.

Wiping away her tears, she parked in the back and snuck along the side of the building to the entrance that would lead her straight to the Foundry.

She pulled her coat tighter around her body as she heard the sounds of Christmas carols being sung, laughter filling the air, making it harder for her to breathe.

Her fingers trembled as she typed in the passcode, and once she’d pushed the door closed behind her, she sank against the cool metal.

Gathering herself, she took three deep breaths, and then walked down the metal steps, flipping on the main power switch, watching as her workstation was bathed in light along with the cases that held the suits.

Oliver’s sat in the middle, his suit hung untouched for weeks. She found herself walking towards it, shedding her coat and purse by her desk.

Her fingers pressed against the case, dark green fingernails matching the color of the suit inside. She’d worn the same color for weeks. It was the only one she wanted to wear anymore.

She pulled air into her lungs, each breath harder than the last as there seemed to be a vice closing around her chest. Tears blurred her vision as she let her eyes rove over his suit, catching on the new jacket that Cisco had designed for him. He’d barely gotten to wear it…

Her gaze fell to his old one hanging behind the mannequin, and she was reaching for the door to the case before she realized what she was doing.

When her fingers closed over the well-worn leather, she gasped, swearing it almost felt warm from his body heat as it after missions.

Her hands shook as she brought it out, carefully shutting the glass door behind her. Her fingers ran over the green fletching in the front, the worn areas where his quiver strap had rubbed. 

Gently, she pulled down the zipper, and with a deep breath, slipped it over her shoulders.

Her eyes fell shut as it surrounded her, his scent still clinging to it and she turned her face into the collar as she hugged herself.

Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks and she barely made it the three steps to her chair before she collapsed.

Kicking off her heels, she pulled her legs up and wrapped the jacket around her knees, making herself as small as possible, as if she could burrow herself into what was left of him.

She ached for him. Ached to feel his breath upon her skin; his voice in her ear; her name upon his lips; his smile...just to see his smile once more.

“I miss you,” she breathed. “Please...if there’s any way...any chance you are still out there somewhere...come back to me.”

She’d said the same thing each night as she lit the candles on her Menorah. After saying her prayers, she offered one up for him - asking for his return because something deep inside her told her he wasn’t truly gone.

Silence surrounded her, even the loud pumping base from the club above her melting away as she closed her eyes and thought of him.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, wrapped up in his leather jacket, but something roused her and she realized it had been more than an hour. She needed to move. Her back was aching from the position she had curled herself into and her toes were getting cold.

Slowly, she unfurled her legs and lifted herself out of her chair. She hugged the jacket to her once more as she turned, knowing she would have to remove it soon.

The moment she turned, she froze as her eyes traveling across the concrete floor to the bottom of the stairs.

She blinked, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to rationalize what she was seeing.

Oliver stood before her, dressed in cargo pants and a grey pullover. His eyes were fixed on hers, his hands limp at his sides.  
She held her breath until she couldn’t any longer, and then a laugh bubbled up from inside her chest.

It escaped her lips, followed by tears. Shaking her head, she looked away and took a step towards the case.

“Great, now, I’m hallucinating…” she muttered, unable to believe it could be anything else. She’d had dreams like this where she woke to find him standing in front of her only to have him disappear before her eyes. She couldn’t take one of those tonight...if she was still dreaming, she needed to wake up.

“Why isn’t there a switch to turn off your mind and your dreams because I can’t do this tonight..I can’t hallucinate you tonight...not when all I want to do is tell you how much I love you...and I…”

Her voice broke as two warm hands landed on her cheeks, familiar calloused pads causing goosebumps to rise as her heart stuttered to a stop.

She didn’t have a chance to breath before warm, pliant lips slanted over hers. He surrounded her, scent, touch, taste - everything she remembered, and she let herself fall.

Her lips moved against his, a sound escaping from the back of her throat somewhere between a sob and a moan as she pushed up on her toes, her hands going to the nape of his neck and pulling him closer.

His tongue swept along her lower lip and she opened to him, eagerly accepting everything he would give her. She’d accept everything from him if this wasn’t a dream.

The longer the kiss, the more she became aware that normally, her dreams ended by now. She never got to kiss him, never got to feel his hands on her face, or his tongue stroking hers, making her keen. 

This was real...he was...he was real.

“Oliver!” she finally gasped, breaking away from his lips, her eyes remained closed, hoping and praying that when she opened them, he would still be there, warm, ocean blue staring back at her with love and longing.

“Open your eyes, Felicity,” he breathed, familiar gravelly voice washing over her. 

“You’ll be there if I do...I’m not dreaming…”

His lips descended on hers again, teeth nipping at her lips as she opened to him once more, their tongues tangling together as clung to him.

“Open your eyes,” he breathed, his own breath labored, after pulling back once more.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and when she was met with nothing but love and adoration and relief staring back at her, the tears fell as she launched herself into his arms.

“You’re alive,” she cried, nuzzling her face into his neck and breathing him in, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

“I’m alive,” he replied softly, voice strained, and she knew she wasn’t the only one overcome with emotion. “I’m here.”

Felicity let her hands roam over his broad back, her fingers pressing him impossibly closer.

“I missed you,” she murmured. “I thought...and I never got to tell you…”

She lifted her head then, running her hands up his chest until dark green rested against his cheeks, stubble rasping against her palms deliciously.

Locking eyes, she held his gaze and smiled up at him. “I love you, Oliver Queen.”

The look on his face was one she would never forget - a weariness lifted from him, and the smile that followed was one she’d never seen on him before.

He pressed his lips to hers, effectively stealing her breath. “Say it again,” he murmured when he pulled back.

“I love you,” she replied, and he laughed, a happy, deep sound that made her feel lightweight and carefree.

“I love you too, and I promised I would come back to you,” he told her, his forehead pressing into hers.

She nodded, closing her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Always,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple - this one full of a future and light and life.

***

She woke the next morning in a cocoon of warmth, and she snuggled back into it, wanting to prolong the feeling, knowing the coldness of reality would hit soon as it always did.

When a soft grunt came from behind her, she stilled, the weight around her waist, tightening and pulling her father back into a solid wall of warmth.

“Felicity.”

His voice. Her mind whirled, heart beating erratically in her chest. 

It hadn’t been a dream. She hadn’t made it all up.

“Breathe,” he murmured against her hair, his nose nuzzling her neck and dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “I’m here.”

She twisted, turning herself in his arms so she came face to face with sleepy blue eyes and the familiar rasp of stubble as her hand found his cheek.

“You’re here,” she repeated, a smile tugging at her lips.

She leaned in, reassurance settling deep within her heart as her lips met his in a soft, lazy kiss.

“I’m home,” he whispered, and the happiness that was betrayed in his voice had her redoubling her efforts, tangling her legs with his as she pushed at his chest, winding her arms around his neck.

He rolled to his back, bringing her with him, hands roaming her sides, barely brushing the sides of her breasts before dragging down the old t-shirt of his that she’d taken to wearing at night.

A soft moan worked it’s way up her throat and she slid a leg over his hips, finding out just how affected he was by her actions. 

He groaned, a deep rumbling sound in his chest as she wriggled against him, her hips meeting his in a soft roll.

Biting down on her lower lip, his hands grasped her hips and held her against him as he took over the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth, sliding against hers and making her keen, her muscles going slack against him as she gave herself over to him.

It wasn’t until they both needed breath that he slowed the kiss, eventually breaking away as they gasped in air, heavy-lidded gazes holding each others, his fingers tracing slow, sensual patterns against her bare skin along the edge of her underwear.

For the first time in months, happiness filled her heart as the early morning light filtered in through her drapes.

She leaned down and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his lips, the fog of sleep wearing away as she remembered what day it was and where she was supposed to be later that morning.

“It’s Christmas,” she whispered, breaths still labored, as she held herself above him, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder to brush against, providing a curtain that narrowed the world down to them and only them.

“It is,” he frowned for a moment. “Yesterday was the last night of Hanukkah.”

“It was,” she nodded as he brushed some of her hair behind her ears, his fingers lingering against her cheek and she closed her eyes and leaned her head into his touch.

“Happy Hanukkah,” he whispered, his voice low, emotion poured into each word.

When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her in awe and she thought back to what he’d told her the night before - how he’d survived and come back to her.

He’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. There were days when he admitted that he wasn’t sure he would ever see her again.

“I prayed every night for you to come back to me. Every night as I lit the candles, and said the prayers, I added one to them, for you,” she admitted softly, slowly lowering herself so she was draped over his chest, their faces inches from each other, her head propped up on her arms over his chest.

“I’m here,” he said again, and she knew he wasn’t just saying it for her, but for him as well.

Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb sweeping under his left eye as he leaned into her touch. “You are,” she told him, knowing he needed to hear it as much as she did.

“Merry Christmas,” she added after a moment, and his eyes fluttered open, his face breaking into a small smile.

“I got the best present this year,” he whispered, and her heart flipped at the way his voice cracked, emotion filling his every word.

She felt the rush of heat that flooded her cheeks and she dipped her chin, but he caught it, holding her gaze. “Thank you.”

Felicity frowned, confusion filling her at his words.

“For believing in me, for loving me, and for never giving up on me,” he whispered, punctuating each with a soft kiss to her lips.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” she replied against his mouth, her hands trailing up his neck and to his hair, pulling him closer as she breathed him in, relishing in the feel of his love surrounding her.

***

When they arrived at Diggle’s later that morning, she knocked on the door with a smile on her face, anticipation filling her.

She’d called him last night, knowing he needed to know, and he’d showed up at the Foundry twenty minutes later with Roy in tow. Hugs and tears had followed as their small family was put back together.

Lyla opened the door and immediately wrapped Oliver in a hug which he returned. “I knew we could never count you out...you’re a survivor...,” she heard the other woman murmur, but she could hear the relief in her voice.

Diggle and Roy greeted them both with another round of hugs. Joy filled Felicity as they all sat down at the table, Sara giggling happily from her high chair.

Every so often, Felicity or Oliver would reach for each other, needing to feel the other’s touch; needing to know they were truly there. A small touch of his hand on her knee under the table, her fingertips running over his forearm, his hand on her shoulder or at her waist as they moved from the dining room to the living room.

Later, as they opened gifts, Oliver pulled Felicity down into his lap, softly nuzzling his shoulder as he pressed his head against her, breathing in her scent.

She grasped his hand that he’d wound around her waist, leaning back against him and closing her eyes, letting the knowledge that he was truly back - truly there with her - sink in and surround her.

“I love you,” she whispered, turning her head so only he could hear.

A soft grunt came from him and he nuzzled further into her neck, and she felt his shoulders shake. Turning in his arms, she pulled him close, and whispered the words again.

When he finally lifted his head, his watery gaze found hers and she cupped his face, pressing her lips to his. 

When she pulled away, she grinned at him, “Best. Gift. Ever,” she murmured, and she watched with delight as his face lit with warmth and love and happiness.

She heard Roy and Digg say something to them, but she didn’t care as she got lost in everything that was Oliver Queen and the best gift she’d ever could have asked for this holiday season. 

_Love._


End file.
